Growl
by ProneToRelapse
Summary: Honestly, sometimes Jim just demands all of Seb's attention. Like a skinny, Irish, psychopathic cat.


When Jim wanders into the room that evening, it's been nearly two days since Sebastian has actually seen him outside the office. The sniper looks up from his book, lowering his glasses on his nose. God, he hates wearing them; his eyes are fine, thank you very much, but to avoid any strain later in life, he'll wear them for now. He leans back on the sofa to glance over at Jim who's slumped in the doorway, slightly dishevelled and sans his suit jacket. His tie is loose around his neck and his eyes are bloodshot. He looks exhausted.

He is also, quite possibly, a tad drunk. This happens sometimes when he drinks after he's worked for so long. Jim is such a lightweight.

"Tiger," he purrs softly, tired eyes fixed on Sebastian, who for the most part is still trying to read.

"Yes, Jim." He acknowledges that Jim is there and waits for the inevitable. It comes after a few silent seconds; Jim wanders over and curls up on the sofa with his head in Sebastian's lap. Seb lowers one hand immediately to push his fingers into Jim's hair, stroking and scratching his nails over his scalp. At any other time, this would have been enough to calm whatever was happening inside Jim's wonderfully depraved head, but it seems that the boss is seconds away from falling bodily into a bad mood.

Which is why Sebastian is not entirely surprised that Jim shifts up to drape himself fully across the sniper, moaning pathetically. Seb grits his teeth against a sigh and finally gives in, laying his book down.

"What, Jim?" he says curtly. Jim stares up at him blearily and Sebastian has seen that look countless times; he is suddenly all too aware of how this evening will have to end. Jim needs to be grounded. He needs Sebastian to shut off the noise in his head. Seb is happy to do it, because if he doesn't, and Jim's mood turns black, it will most likely be his blood he's cleaning off of the floor and the walls tomorrow. A little bit of blood on the sheets is tame in comparison to what Jim has done to him.

"Tiger," Jim purrs again, and fists a hand in the collar of Seb's shirt, pawing at him like a cat starved of attention. Sebastian is used to this from Jim. Hell, he's used to it from Jim and their actual cat, whom he hasn't seen for a while but knows she'll turn up in one place or another. Possibly draped over his face while he sleeps.

Jim tugs impatiently at Seb's shirt and his eyes are more than bloodshot; they're wild and crazed and pained as Jim's head pounds with all of the information he doesn't know how to filter. Seb is taken with a sudden desire to kiss Jim, but he won't until Jim initiates it tonight.  
He's in no hurry to be bitten if that is in fact the way Jim is going to be tonight.

Apparently it is, because Jim gives up with whatever it is he's trying to do - it seems that words won't work tonight - and simply rips open the front of Seb's shirt before getting to his feet and stumbling towards their bedroom.

Seb is left quite speechless for a moment, staring down at the torn front of his favourite Burberry shirt. Jim knows it's his favourite. Jim is trying to provoke a reaction. Seb's expression darkens significantly. If Jim wants a reaction, he'll get one.

He follows Jim into the bedroom, slipping off the remains of his shirt. "What the fuck, Jim?" he demands, throwing the shirt down. Jim manages to half turn towards Seb before the sniper has him by the shoulder and is slamming him bodily into the wall. Jim gasps as his breath is forced out of his lungs and then chokes when Seb pushes his forearm across his throat, blocking any air from being drawn back in.  
The expression on Jim's face is completely at odds with Sebastian's actions. Jim looks as though he's being caressed with the softest touches a lover can bestow; as though he's being almost worshipped under Sebastian's hands. His eyes are half-lidded, his mouth curled up at one side in a crooked smile, though his face is reddenning from the lack of oxygen to his lungs. Sebastian watches, slightly awed as some of the pain leaves Jim's eyes. He can almost hear his mind quietening.

"Are you going to tell me what that was about?" Sebastian growls. He does that a lot around Jim: growling. Whether it's at a client that Jim wants to scare, at a mark that Jim wants taken out, at Jim in annoyance, to show his pleasure when Jim does something surprising that feels good. Jim, Jim, Jim. It's all for Jim. Maybe that's why Jim calls him tiger. Aside from the fact that Sebastian has an almost obsessive love of hunting them. It's because Sebastian is a growl, whereas Jim is a purr - softer, more subtle.

Jim is trying to speak, but he has no air to push the words out or give them volume. Sebastian relaxes his arm slightly, and the rush of air Jim sucks into his lungs is almost painful. "Tiger," he gasps when he can breathe again. "Tiger, please."

That's all he'll say tonight, Seb knows. But it's all he needs to say. Because Seb knows. Seb knows what he needs, what he wants. And if it's in Seb's power to grant it, he'll gladly give all he has to Jim, like he's given almost all he has already.

Stepping away from the wall, Seb grabs Jim's shirt and hauls him towards the bed, throwing him down onto the mattress hard enough that he bounces. Before Jim can sit up, Seb is straddling his waist, pushing his shoulders down and tearing open the front of Jim's shirt in revenge. His smug smile drops, however, when Jim's outrage at the shirt doesn't come. On closer inspection Sebastian notices that - "Jim, you little shit!" - Jim is wearing another of Seb's shirts, and Seb has just ripped that one, too.

With another growl - annoyance - Seb tightens his grip on Jim's shoulder, causing him to wince slightly. Seb leaves the shirt on Jim and reaches a hand down to unfasten his trousers, pushing them down Jim's hips until they're low enough that he can kick them off himself. He leans back to undo his own jeans, discarding them and leaning over Jim, rolling his hips down hard against his.

Jim twists onto his side abruptly, scrabbling for the bedside drawer and taking out a small bottle that he pushes into Seb's hands. Seb sighs slightly. He'd been hoping for a bit of foreplay, but apparently Jim has other ideas.

Stuffing a pillow under Jim's hips, Seb slicks his fingers with lube from the bottle and presses the pad of his forefinger against the ring of muscle at the entrance to Jim's body. He doesn't push in at first, instead just strokes his finger softly over the muscle, drawing an impatient whimper from Jim, much to Seb's satisfaction. He can feel his cock hardening in answer to Jim's body's responses.

When Jim's hips start to quiver, Seb pushes his first finger in in one uninterrupted slide to the first knuckle. Jim exhales sharply and gives a small nod, mostly to himself.

Seb withdraws his finger slowly before pushing it back in, working Jim open with practised ease. He adds a second finger after a moment and spreads them inside Jim, causing him to give a soft whine. Seb frowns slightly. Normally Jim is moaning much louder by now. Even if it doesn't feel that good, he is always loud, sometimes obnoxiously so. Jim is holding back - for whatever reason - and Seb isn't happy with that.

Curling his fingers up, Seb locates the raised bump of nerves inside Jim, and rubs his fingers hard over it, much more firmly than usual. Jim jerks abruptly and gives a bitten-off cry, jaw clenching shut. Growling - annoyance again - Seb rubs harder, working his fingers almost roughly inside Jim. He grins as Jim's cock hardens against his stomach, leaking heavily as Seb stimulates Jim to almost beyond what he can bear. But then, both Seb and Jim know how to stimulate the other beyond what should be possible.

"Tiger," Jim moans desperately, back arching as Seb's fingers stretch and manipulate him. His hips judder under the force of Seb's ministrations, and he cries out once, the word "stop!" almost torn out of him.

Seb does so, stilling his hand immediately but not pulling his fingers out. He knows Jim, dammit. Better than anyone, and Jim doesn't want him to stop, he just doesn't want to come like this. Jim wants Seb inside him, hard and thick and fucking him harder than he can stand. He wants to come with Seb fucking him into the bed, he wants to come when Seb has wrecked his body and calmed his mind.

Seb pulls his fingers out and grabs the bottle of lube, flicking open the cap to pour some more onto hands to slick himself up with. He pauses when long, pale fingers curl around his wrist to stop him. He glances at Jim curiously.

"No more," Jim murmurs, and that sinful purr is back, his accent thick with arousal. "No more, I want to feel you."

Seb frowns slightly. "It could hurt."

Jim nods and lies back down and Seb realises that Jim wants the possibility of being hurt this way. He doesn't understand it, but Seb will do anything for Jim, even if it means causing him pain.

He pushes Jim's legs up with a hand under each thigh, and looks down at the mess Jim has already become. His pale skin is flushed, jaw clenched and eyes screwed shut. Seb takes a moment to take in the sight beneath him before sliding into Jim's open body with a sharp thrust of his hips.

Jim cries out as Seb fills him completely and he grips Seb's shoulder tightly, nails biting little crescents into tanned skin as Seb's cock splits him deep and sends heat rushing to the very edges of his body. Once fully sheathed inside Jim, Seb rolls his hips, rubbing against Jim's prostate and causing him to jerk and whine. Seb lets out a sharp gasp as Jim tightens around him and pulls out slowly before thrusting back in, making Jim's body stiffen and arch.

Seb builds up a rhythm he knows will send Jim over the edge quickly, and it's not long before he's pounding into Jim and gasping as Jim's body is hot and tight around him, and Jim is clawing at his back, legs wrapped around his waist. The sharp pain of Jim's nails makes him shiver and moan as he fucks deeper into Jim's body. The man beneath him is a writhing mess, and Seb can actually pinpoint the second the noise in Jim's head finally, finally whites out, because Jim's face slackens and the pain leaves his eyes and he's shouting - nearly screaming - Seb's name like a mantra or a prayer of thanks as he arches off the bed, one hand reached down to grasp his cock.

Seb bats his hand away and grips it himself, frantically jerking Jim off in time with his thrusts and whining because god, he's so close and Jim is so fucking tight it's incredible. A few blond strands of sweat-slicked hair fall into his eyes and he shakes his head to move them, rolling his shoulders and gasping.

He cries out in turn as his balls tighten and heat curls in his abdomen with the stirrings of his orgasm. He growls - pleasure - when Jim starts to tighten around him and moans when Jim arches violently off the bed, crying out and spilling over Seb's hand and their stomachs. Seb follows with a cry that's nearly a roar as Jim sinks his teeth into Seb's shoulder and fuck, he has to cry out because his nerve-endings are on fire and oh god, he's coming so hard he can't see straight.

He slumps over Jim, panting hard and skin slick with sweat, but he can see Jim grinning, and even though it's a tired grin it's still there. Unable to stop himself, he leans down and kisses Jim fiercely, biting gently at his lips. What makes it that much sweeter is that Jim's hand comes up to cup the back of his head and his tongue flicks across Sebastian's own.

Sebastian curls around Jim and growls. It's a possessive growl. Jim is his.


End file.
